


Waste

by smug_rabbit



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-07-08 03:30:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15921950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smug_rabbit/pseuds/smug_rabbit
Summary: Touwa Haiji waits to die. Naegi Komaru won't let him. Spoilers for the end of UDG, and takes place before DR3.





	1. Past Visiting Hours

Haiji would walk these hallways and marvel that even corporate offices could feel like a home, alive with the sounds of co-workers flirting, making plans for dates by the water cooler, or off-hand comments about a broken escalator while ferrying office supplies and files between the thousands of rooms in Touwa Hills.

“Good morning, Touwa-san,” one of the drones would say with a small bow.

“Morning,” he’d reply with a nod and a wink.

Now, nobody greeted him in his own building. Nobody here knew who he was, except for the people outside who cursed him for abandoning his duty, or the kids who cursed him for coming so close to wiping them out. It wasn’t his fault. He was trained to run a business, not lead an army.

Now all that he had left to do in this world was rid the hallways of the cloyed blood clinging to Touwa Hills’ walls like paint, and cover up the unsightly claw marks. No way could a Touwa building remain in this state.

He felt the ghosts of fingers twitch on his right hand, fingers that were no longer there.

 

* * *

 

Adults occasionally came running towards Touwa Hills to pry him out, but the steel gates remained firm against their clumsy battering. Over time, it became a source of amusement for Haiji, watching from his perch in the tower’s security room.

“Touwa engineering. Of course it won’t be beaten by the likes of you.”

Within the first day of him setting up his new life, dozens of adults attempted an invasion. When that failed, they switched to protesting, then begging, then hammering at the grates again. Each time the invaders showed up at his doorstep, they were fewer in number. Haiji never came out of his tower. In between the adults, Monokuma Kids tried their hardest to break in along with various Monokumas whose claws couldn’t penetrate the steel.

A fortnight into his isolation, Haiji was scrubbing the floors when the motion sensor alarm sounded, and two girls appeared on the security feed. He knew who they were without needing to look at the grainy images of their faces.

“Is this true?” he demanded of the machine. “Are the cameras working? They aren’t lying to me, are they?”

 _“Haiji-san! Please come out!”_ Komaru’s tinny voice grated his ears through the speakers.

“Fuck you!” he screamed back at the monitor, though there was no way for them to hear him.

_“We’re worried about you! Can you please just come out, please? So we know you’re okay?”_

“I’m fine. No thanks to you. A bit lonely, but I’ll manage.”

_“I’ll shoot the gates open, okay?”_

Touko blunted her scissors against the grates while Komaru blasted them with her megaphone gun. They didn’t budge.

“That’s Touwa engineering,” he said triumphantly. It didn’t matter if the city crumbled to dust around them, the gates would be standing in a thousand years. “Togami tech won’t be enough. You’ll need Big Bang Monokuma to get through these.” Satisfied, he moved to turn off the security feed. “Idiots…”

Komaru looked directly at the camera. Fukawa whispered something into her ear. Komaru shook her head and stomped off, Touko in tow.

Haiji smiled. For the first time, he beat Fukawa and Naegi. He continued watching the cameras for their next move.

"What's it gonna be? Begging? I beat you, I beat you, I fucking beat you!"

The girls reappeared in frame only seconds later. They parted ways to reveal a Bomb Monokuma staggering to the foot of Touwa Hill’s gates, the first special Monokuma that Haiji had seen in weeks. Not that he was afraid. Monokuma claws couldn’t puncture the metal, so why would their bombs?

The Monokuma tossed a grenade straight at the grates, which exploded upon contact. The gate was scarred by the blast, but not dented.

“Nothing. See?” He laughed at his own nervousness.

The Monokuma inched closer to the grate, tossing another grenade. Then another. The security feed trembled with the force of the explosions. It occurred to him that Monaka was in charge of the warfare materials division at Touwa. That included the grenades.

“Stop it!”

The Monokuma kept tossing grenades until smoke clouded the cameras’ lenses, obscuring his view of the Monokuma. At that point, Haiji figured that the Monokuma’s ammunition pouch was spent.

By the time the smoke cleared, the Monokuma was gone. His heart skipped. His good arm shaking, Haiji swivelled the joystick, pointing the camera at the grate, praying his sister’s engineering hadn’t-

The grate was dented, peppered through with shrapnel and one gaping hole, big enough to fit a couple of kids through.

“Shit, shit! They’ve come to kill me!”

Even as he said it, he didn’t believe it. Haiji had seen for himself that Komaru couldn’t kill anyone, no matter how horrific the person’s crimes. Nevertheless, he grabbed a fire axe off the wall and waited in front of the staircase door, steeling himself, repeating his mantras over and over. He barely noticed his arm aching with the strain of keeping the axe raised.

“They’re gonna kill me. They’ll kill me. They hate me.” He needed to resent them for all their crimes, enough that he could swing the axe upon their heads when they entered.

Minutes passed. Voices floated up to him, not the canned noise passing through his office speakers, but melodious voices of human girls.

“Un…believe…able. Why…can’t he…just turn…the elevators…on…for us?”

“Don’t ask me! Oooh! I’m so going to dismember him! Every limb.”

The door opened a sliver, and Komaru’s ahoge popped into view.

“Haiji-san?”

Haiji ground his heel into the carpet, preparing his opening lunge. His arm involuntarily trembled with the weight of the axe before crashing downwards, bringing the axe with it. Another attempt at lifting it yielded nothing. There was no feeling in his fingers, no strength to grip the thick handle. Haiji wished he’d picked a weapon he didn’t need two hands to lift.

The door pivoted open and Komaru stepped through, Hacking Gun swinging from her hip, hands raised in surrender. Touko followed behind, her hands wrapped around a scissor and her stun gun. Neither of them flinched at the sight of him, axe at his feet and eyes bulging impotently.

Seeing they weren’t intimidated, he hissed. “What do you want?”

Touko jerked her thumb towards Komaru. “I wasn’t after anything. But this one wanted to make sure you weren’t cutting your wrists or worse.”

“Thanks for caring. As you can see, I’m alive.”

“Actually…” Komaru began.

“And I’m not helping you with anything. ‘Sides, you’re keeping everyone in check, right?”

“We don’t want to keep them in check. We want to restore peace to the city, and save lives. We want the adults to stop going after the kids. They’ll listen to you.”

Komaru reached into her skirt and pulled out a black cuboid the size of a tissue box. “This is a jammer. It disrupts the brainwashing in the Monokuma Kids’ helmets. But it’s a prototype, so we can’t spread the jamming effect wide enough to cover the city. We need an engineer to improve it.” Komaru held out the device for him to take. He stared at, as if the box was a sword pointed at his heart.

“You think that’ll convince us to hold hands with the kids and dance a jig for the peace of mankind.”

“Don’t put it like that.”

“Ask whoever gave you that thing to finish their job. Who developed it, anyway?” he asked, but he already could tell.

“Future Foundation.”

“Who developed this?” he snarled, angrier this time.

To his satisfaction, Komaru swallowed, the first sign of apprehension she had since stepping inside. “Togami Corporation. What’s left of them. They airlifted this device to us yesterday, but we just found out that the device isn’t powerful enough. We also can’t contact Future Foundation regularly, so I haven’t been able to tell them about our issue, and besides, I doubt they can spare anymore resources to upg-”

“Blah, blah, blah, arrrg,” he gargled, flapping his hand to accentuate his irritation. “You know how many people came to me every day with excuses for why they couldn’t do shit?”

“Master’s team of scientists are busy fighting a war against the Remnants of Despair,” hissed Touko. “Being productive, if you remember what’s like.”

“Should I introduce you to the Touwa Group’s scientists? They’re decaying in the garbage chute if you want to see ‘em.”

The girls fell silent, apprehension scrawled on their features. As soon as Haiji said the words, he felt embarrassed for himself and how short his temper had become. Surely there was something left of the old Haiji, the unflappable, calculating heir to Japan’s greatest multinational, back when he had the world to gain and everything to lose. And he had lost everything.

Deep breaths steadied his heart rate.

“I have nothing to offer you. I’m a businessman with no business. And if I was Chairman, I still wouldn’t help you. Those kids…it makes no difference to my life if they live or die anymore. I don’t even want to fight. Leave me alone. Thanks for caring about me. Sorry I have nothing to offer you.” He rotated through the stock phrases, hoping one of them would convince the girls to go away. He didn’t care which one it was. “Just take a hint. I’m not helping you.”

Komaru’s shoulders slumped and she nodded tepidly, face downcast. “I understand. It’s okay.”

Touko threw up her hands and turned her back to Haiji. “I told you, Komaru. We’d come all this way for nothing. Shit. That Bomb Monokuma died for this.”

“Touko.” Komaru patted her compatriot’s shoulder. “It’s okay.” With a smile, she asked Haiji: “Do you mind if I use the bathroom before you go?”

Haiji didn’t bother giving directions. With a shrug, Komaru walked off to explore the hallways of his living quarters by herself. Touko clicked her tongue.

“Go ahead. I’ll keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t try anything. Who knows what some lonely old man would do…”

Haiji rolled his eyes. “Leave once you’re done. I’ll walk you outside, even.” He needed to repair the broken shutters anyway, before someone else realised the damage.

Touko maintained her hostile glare until Komaru called out, “Found it!” and he heard the bathroom door slam shut. All that was left was Fukawa and Haiji to stare at each other until Touko broke the silence.

“I need a drink. Do you have anything?”

“Not for you.”

“You made us walk up all those stairs, mole man. The least you could do is give us a drop of water.” Touko slunk her way out of the room and began sniffing her way around the floor.

Haiji didn’t bother following her, but he collapsed back onto his couch and placed his good hand over his eyes. Talking was exhausting. He needed to do some exercise in the gym and get his stamina back up.

As his eyes began to droop, Haiji heard a loud screech from outside.

“Touko!” Komaru rushed out of the bathroom and pointed her megaphone at Haiji.

“I didn’t do anything!” he protested.

“Y-you creep! There’s a dead body in the fridge!” Touko’s voice wafted from the kitchen.

 _Oh_. He’d forgotten about that.

“That’s my old man,” he said through clenched teeth, his eyes never leaving the barrel of Komaru’s Hacking Gun. “Please put that toy away.”

She lowered it, but kept both hands tight around the trigger as he walked into the kitchen, good arm raised.

Disgust was stamped all over Touko’s expression. “You know how to give a girl a heart attack,” she panted, placing a hand on her chest and kicking the freezer door.

“This isn’t a factory; I don’t have any of those underground industrial-sized freezers to store him in.”

“That’s not the issue!” She wrung her hands. “Why is he in a freezer? Aren’t you afraid his ghost will punish you?”

He’d been having strange dreams about his father yelling at him, but he wasn’t about to admit that.

“You’ve been alone too long already.” Komaru said. She looked sad, as if it was her fault.

“I’ll find a place to bury him eventually. Somewhere nice, where he deserves. Maybe back in our hometown, when I get back to it.” A smile crossed Haiji’s face for the first time since he’d wielded Big Bang Monokuma. “Old bastard. He brought all this shit upon us, and yet…” His voice cracked. A few days of not working out his vocal chords had caused his voice to turn hoarse. He rubbed his throat.

Fukawa was unsympathetic. “Finish your sentences.”

“I’ll keep him frozen in storage until the city clears up. Then I’ll move out of Touwa City and return home with him.”

Touko gave Komaru an exasperated glance. Whatever message Komaru saw in Touko's eyes, she nodded in agreement with it.

“Anything you’d like to share?” Haiji snapped.

“No, nothing. We’re going now.” Komaru bowed. “Thank you for letting us in, Haiji-san. Good luck with…erm…whatever you were doing.”

“Yeah, bye.” Touko was so blunt that Haiji felt slighted. He could hear the smirk in her voice as she turned away from him, flipping her oily braid over her shoulder. “Don't beg for us once we're gone." She spat on the floor, the saliva glistening under the kitchen lights. "No prizes for guessing what a lonely shut-in’s gonna do once the maggots finish Daddy's corpse. Just make sure you do it cleanly. We'll come back to mop up what remains of you both in a few months.”

“I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of outliving me. And even if Dad decays to nothing, I'd rather talk with the pot plants than give imbecilic worms like you the time of day. They're less clingy, smell better, and have less insects on them.”

Touko pivoted back towards him, eyes bulging indignantly. “Ugh, with that disgusting attitude, no wonder you’re single! As if the crippled hand wasn't unattractive enough! Compared to Master, you’re nothing!”

She continued ranting about how his father would be ashamed and how Togami was a far better corporation compared to Touwa, oblivious to Komaru grabbing her shoulder and dragging her to the elevator. Haiji followed them out. With her other hand, Komaru opened the elevator. She stepped through with the deranged Touko, and without looking at him, fired the Hacking Gun at the elevator panel. The doors closed, leaving him alone in his tower again, bar the fridge’s frantic beeping over the unbroken hum of all his other electrical appliances. 

“I was being sarcastic,” he mumbled to the fridge, once he dragged himself back to the kitchen and slammed the drawer back on his father’s corpse. “As if I could ever let anything happen to Dad.”

The fridge hummed in response.


	2. Live Half Your Life and Throw the Rest Away

The garish pink walkie-talkie was sitting on the toilet lid. Haiji grimaced, remembering that Komaru was the last person to use the bathroom. Gingerly, he moved it onto the sink, pumped soap onto a hand towel, and rubbed the walkie-talkie clean as best as he could with one hand. Bar a few scratches, the device was spotless.

He knew Komaru wanted him to contact them. He wasn’t going to be so easily baited, no matter what. He considered throwing it out the window, but that was no way to treat a gift. Who knew if anyone would give him anything for free again?

Haiji juggled it one-handed. He liked the weight of the walkie-talkie. It was heavier than the toys he’d used in his childhood, back when he played war-games with his friends in the parks, calling out enemy positions over the devices.

“Touwa to Takakura. I see one of them. Think it’s Kusahari in the dead shrubs. Over.”

“Received, Touwa-san. Tagging him now. Over and out.”

Haiji had a chuckle to himself before realising he was holding down the walkie-talkie’s button. He cleared his throat.

“That was just testing. Nothing’s wrong.”

Haiji stepped outside the bathroom, pacing up and down his hallway, glancing out the window every now and again as if Komaru would be outside watching him. It was already night time. A few minutes passed before he tried again.

“Naegi? Fukawa? You forgot your toy.”

He was holding his breath, still waiting for an answer. None came.

Haiji blew a raspberry at his folly. He switched off the device with a careless flick of the thumb and underarmed it towards a nearby wastepaper basket. The walkie-talkie rattled the basket’s rim before bouncing off onto the floor.

* * *

 

“Touwa Haiji! Earth to Touwa Haiji!”

Haiji woke up with a start, gasping for air, the spiders disappearing from behind his eyelids. He rubbed the cold out of his eye.

“Well, I tried,” the crackling voice snickered. “Looks like he finally offed himself.”

“I’m not dead,” Haiji groaned into the air. He stumbled off his couch towards the walkie-talkie lying at the foot of the waste basket, grabbing it with both hands. Half-asleep, he fumbled for the switch, before croaking, “ _Chigaimasu._ I’m alive, sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, look who it is. That didn’t take long at all.”

“Why didn’t you respond to me last night?”

“There’s this thing called sleep,” snapped Touko on the other end of the line. “You called us at four in the morning when we were asleep. Idiot. Listening to your inane babble or having a good night’s rest. Which do you think I picked? Though at least you found the walkie-talkie. I was surprised you could do that much.”

Touwa’s teeth grinded together. “Don’t leave things in my apartment.”

“We left it there in case you ever wanted to hear our sweet voices on command. If there’s a problem, tell Komaru. She’ll come running.” A pause. “I was against leaving it behind, just so you know.”

His bitter soul screamed at him to march out onto his fifty-storey high balcony and toss the pink thing into the rubble below. His rational mind told him to grin and bear it, lest he ruin his last source of news from the outside world. Besides, he felt oddly grateful that someone in the city was thinking about him, despite that someone being the crass Fukawa Touko. That one day since the girls came to visit felt like three.

“Thanks. So, uh,” Haiji paced around the room, churning through ways to keep the conversation going. “What are you up to this fine morning?”

“Afternoon, actually. And we’re doing the usual. Patrol the city, make sure the violence doesn’t get out of hand. Hard work. Something you need to get back into.”

He peeked outside the blinds, confirming the sun’s position. “I’d rather not.”

“I’ve been outside at least once fifty days in a row. That’s a record. It’s been useful for clearing my head to come up with new ideas for writing. Still, I miss being able to sit indoors with my computer and pen and pad and just write. I get so dirty outdoors, I shower once a week these days. Komaru made me promise to shower at least once a fortnight, otherwise she won’t share a room with me.”

Haiji’s throat seized up.

“Speaking of Komaru, is she around?” he spluttered, bile swilling around the base of his clenched throat.

“Hold on!” Komaru’s upbeat tones cut in over Fukawa’s strained mumblings. Komaru sounded far away. There was a clatter of what Haiji assumed were chopsticks, and hurried footfalls.

“Good morning, Haiji-san.”

“Thanks for your gift.”

“Sorry about the colour.”

“It’s okay. I won’t throw it out. I like pink things. Pink hides the blood.”

A pause.

“It was a joke.”

“Oh. Good one!” Komaru laughed. A cheery, unburdened laugh of a high-schooler. Haiji’s chest began to hurt. It had been months since he’d had a normal conversation with somebody like this. Back when he could collapse onto his bed and phone his friends, just to chat. Panicking at the thought she would shut off the channel, he stuttered out;

“What are you eating by the way? I heard chopsticks. Lunch?”

“Kinda. It’s almost afternoon tea time. Canned ham, canned beans, and canned takoyaki. We move between houses every few days, and most of the food’s still edible. Lucky for us, it was winter when we started our…role, so the cold kept food fresh at first. But it’s been canned stuff ever since. I’m getting kinda bored of them, but what can you do? At least we won’t run out of cans for a while.”

Haiji felt sorry for her, but his fresh food stocks weren’t much better. All the mouldy vegetables left in the office fridges had made him sick, and he was reduced dry food too.

“Same here.” He recanted the depressing state of his food stock, venting to another living person who could offer sympathy and echo his endless conga line of “I know, right?”s.

“I’ve been tending a potato garden up here. It’s got a bit of sun and water. A small flowerbed with some decent-ish soil. Still waiting for it to sprout, but it might be worth eating some time. You should start your own, if you have time. Stake out a place in the city and make it a veggie garden. Just remember to get some fertiliser. I think there’s a few stores uptown and-”

Haiji cut himself off, realising that he was giving gardening tips to girls. How far he’d fallen. From boardrooms to this.

“Anyway, it was just a thought, you know?”

“Advice from a professional nutritionist, I’m sure. I’ll take it on board.”

“Sorry.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic. It’s good to talk like this. I really enjoy it. Um, call tonight? Around six?”

Haiji let a few moments of silence pass to make it sound like he was debating the merits of further contact, as if he hadn’t already decided.

“Sure.”

“Great! Well, see you soon!”

* * *

 

He was looking forward to the chats, he realised. Every so often in between cleaning, tending to his plants, writing his memoirs, he’d glance at the clock on the wall and count the hours until its spindly hands pointed vertical.

Eventually, the walkie-talkie clipped to his jacket crackled to life.

“Whew! Rough day out here. How about you, Haiji-san?”

A week went by. Komaru would ring him twice a day, every day. They’d talk for roughly fifteen minutes each time, Toko lobbing barbs from the background, to which he’d occasionally return fire whenever he had a good enough retort. They were small chats, but they were integral to his life now, even though they were the same every time. She’d rattle off her routine throughout the day, and he’d offer commentary on some of the things she’d seen.

“I don’t know what to do with all these gloves. How is it possible that people lose only one glove? Don’t they notice?”

“Maybe you should try tracking down the owners and selling them back?” Haiji mused. “Use the nicer ones though, but make sure you wash ‘em beforehand. Might be lice hiding around.”

And then there were times where he wouldn’t bother responding.

“Like, I think the adults are finding ways to fight back against the Monokumas. There were so many of them destroyed in the pit. Maybe they have a new leader. What do you think?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

Then, almost a fortnight into their verbal footsies;

“Let’s meet up, yeah?”

And just like that, coldness descended over his heart again. The real reason why Komaru left him a walkie-talkie. So she could nag him back into the city grounds. That was Komaru’s plan all along and he always knew she would summon him back, but to hear her say it made it all real again, the pressure of Expectation and Responsibility and Leadership of the last desperate humans left in their tiny world.

“No.”

“Aww, really?” Komaru tried to sound light-hearted, but her voice quavered on the last syllable.

Haiji pressed the walkie-talkie’s button, then released it along with the breath he’d been holding. The device slipped from his grasp.

“Haiji-san?” Komaru’s timid voice crackled from the device on the floor. “Are you there?”

Haiji grunted in response, as if she could hear him.

“Maybe the signal’s blocked by the clouds tonight. Anyway, if you can hear me, please remember to replace the batteries sometime.”

He used his foot to roll the walkie-talkie onto its back. The battery case was nailed into place with a screw.

He was in a bad mood again. He tossed the walkie-talkie into a cupboard, buried it under a heap of office supplies, and slammed the door shut.

 

* * *

In brighter news, his left arm was healing. His phantom fingers throbbed painfully, but he could rotate his shoulder and flex his forearm enough to wave. He spent half a day testing his limits, waving at the fridge, the drooping pot plants, the buildings visible from outside the window, giggling to himself the whole while.

That night, muffled electronic crackling trickled into his ears as he ate his dinner alone in the kitchen. He chewed with his mouth open to drown out the noise.

* * *

Sometimes he wondered where Monaka was, if she hated him.

“I’d never lay hands on my sister again,” he said aloud. He believed himself.

* * *

The pillows had faces now. He had no idea when they sprouted them. They were hideous nonetheless, a mix of black and blue and red ink.

* * *

In the morning, he checked the veggie patch and fed it water to last a few days. Water overflowed onto the floor. He sucked out the water with a straw, but got distracted blowing bubbles in his makeshift swamp. Then the skies were dark again. He didn’t bother making dinner. He was too tired to cook.

* * *

Sixty square metres. That was how big his apartment was. He’d measured it eight times.

* * *

Fifty-point-three-eight square metres. That was how big his apartment was. He’d measured it twenty times. Every day, it would shrink by a metre. If he piled the garbage bags atop each other, maybe he’d get some room back.

* * *

The security camera feed was fascinating. He could watch it for days. Everything was so still on it. Nobody had come within range of his cameras since Komaru and Touko. Live feeds weren’t usually like this.

* * *

He’d left Touwa Senior out overnight at the kitchen table. Eating with somebody was a healthy habit, but if he wasn’t careful about keeping Dad cold, the maggots would join them for dinner soon enough. Plus the smell could ruin anyone’s appetite.

* * *

She hadn’t contacted him in days.

In the silence of the room, Haiji screamed. He howled and shouted disjointed words, but nobody answered. He screamed for his Dad, for his sister, for Mom. He screamed until he was wheezing, and collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. By the time he focused his vision enough to realise his location in between pants, he found himself staring at the utility cupboard. He opened it, and scrambled through the sea of useless plastic and wood for a glimpse of pink. Eventually, he found it buried amidst the junk.

“Are you there? Komaru-chan?”

Silence.

Hearing coherent words in his own voice calmed him down a little, as weak and shaky as it was. He cradled the device in the crook of his damaged arm, praying that it would talk back to him.

“Come on…”

He tried again, but there was still no answer.

“No more games, Fukawa! Where’s Komaru?”

Still nothing.

How long he sat there with the walkie-talkie in his arm, he didn’t know. He pressed his back against the wall, waiting for an answer, drifting into sleep, before waking to the sound of the wind battering the windows of his apartment. Every crackle and thump startled him into alertness before he’d drift off again.

“need…re are you…Tou…”

His heart leaping, he jammed the button.

“I’m here, Komaru-san!” He croaked the words, tongue stumbling on their shapes.

“…stand…”                              

The device crackled its last and the speaker’s faint hum winked out of existence.

“No, no!”

He kicked the box of useless wooden objects onto the floor, scattering nails and hammer onto his foot. He barely felt the pain. Amidst the mess, a screwdriver the length and width of his index finger blinked under the light.

Holding the walkie-talkie in place on the floor with his bad arm, he unscrewed the cover with his shaking good hand. The device slipped out of his grasp a few times, but he managed to loosen the screw enough to tip it out of the cover.

With shaking fingers, he plucked out the battery. He had nothing to replace it with.

“Shit!”

His eyes fell on the wall clock in the dining room. Haiji peeled it off the wall. Luckily for him, the battery case was sealed by a simple plastic clasp he could open with one hand.

He shoved the battery into the walkie-talkie, and held down the button.

“Naegi!”

“She’s not here.” A younger voice, not Komaru’s or Touko’s. A child’s. Haiji shivered.

“Touwa Haiji. We need your help.”


	3. Kids See Ghosts Sometimes

“I’m so sorry, Kotoko-chan. This is all my fault, as always…”

Jataro was delirious, eyes closed, body limp. All that was left was for his soul to evacuate his body. She could barely hear his voice under the sound of rain and wind and thunder beating on the sewer pipe they’d been forced to share for the past few hours, ever since their previous hideout was shattered by the adults’ bombs.

“Get a hold of yourself!” Kotoko slapped her comrade, whose eyes remained shut. “We have to find Nagisa-kun. And Masaru-kun.”

“Too late. They’re probably dead. I saw the adults grab them. Like candy. Sometimes old men put razor blades inside the candy and force the children to eat it in front of them, so they can watch the kids cut their mouths open and bleed. We should be grateful that we don’t die every time we eat a lolly.”

She shook him. “Don’t say that, Jataro-kun!” she pleaded.

He made no further response, save to drool out the corners of his mouth as exhaustion finally claimed him. The sight drained the remaining energy out of Kotoko’s limbs in turn. Dark spots peppered the edges of her vision, and began swarming into the centre. She opened her mouth to rouse Jataro again, but coherent sentences were beyond her lead tongue.

“Wake up. We…make it out…our own way.”

But he wouldn’t stir and she wouldn’t move. They huddled together in the sewer pipe, hoping the wind and the hail and the thunder would die down soon, or at least one of the three.

* * *

 

The weather didn’t let up and Kotoko fought to stay awake, but she’d never gotten used to weeks on the run from homicidal adults, eating decayed food and maggots out of garbage cans. As a result, her lowered stamina failed her. Soon, she found herself floating in black space. When she next found the strength to open her eyes, she was staring at endless rows of squirming blue worms on sand. She blinked and the worms froze into ivy, and the cream background of the wallpaper stopped moving.

Kotoko had woken up in unknown places before, and avoiding further harm required delicate movements only. She slowed her breathing and rolled her eyeballs around in their sockets, scouting for other people and listening for any noise, particularly snoring. Once she was satisfied nobody else was in the room, she sat up.

She was in a bedroom; a large, well-furnished one that had belonged to a middle-class family for the few months they’d lived in Touwa City. The cylinder door handles on the strawberry pink cupboards were still glossy. The bed was plush and the two layers of woollen blankets upon her felt warm. Intricately-carved wooden tables held ceramic vases of different patterns and stripes, some of which had wilted plants protruding from the top. Whoever had placed her here was feeling generous.

“Hello?” she breathed, as if her voice would shatter the illusion and she would be back outside amidst the rubble and rain. She found her platform shoes at the foot of the bed that someone had been kind enough to leave. Hesitantly, she crept to the door, pushing on it slightly to behold a small dining room, and a small blonde boy munching on cereal at a round table.

Without his mask on, it took Kotoko a moment to process Jataro’s presence. She’d gotten used to the esoteric self-loathing, the off-tangent ranting, but she struggled to reacquaint herself with his new face every time she looked at him. It felt like a stranger had injected himself into the Warriors of Hope.

Jataro turned at the creak to peer at her through the crack between the door and the frame.

“Kotoko-chan looks tired,” he mumbled through a mouthful of cereal. “We’re friends. I can tell,” he added upon seeing her grimace.

“Friends with you? I wouldn’t be your friend if it was a choice between killer alien plants and-”

She ran out of breath and the insult died on her lips. Without the mask, she could see his lilac eyes clearly staring back at her, full of fear and sadness and loathing. She couldn’t say it to his bare face. She really was too tired.

“The brats woke up, Komaru!” a voice echoed down the house’s hallway. Jataro squeaked. He lifted the bowl of cereal off the table and frantically spun around before throwing it at the sink. He missed. The bowl bounced off the edge of the bench and shattered on the linoleum. The door opened and Touko appeared in in the dining room, rolling her eyes at her former enemies and the broken ceramic all over the floor.

“Relax. It’s not my food, okay?”

Kotoko glared at the new entrant, as if it was her fault Jataro smashed the bowl. “Ew, the stinky Demon,” she snorted.

“Hi, stinky Demon. Are you going to punish me?”

“No.”

“You should force me and Kotoko to fight to the death to see which one you’ll keep as a pet. Usually the bad guy gives us a weapon in movies. Give Kotoko-chan a metal pole; I don’t mind. She can force me to swallow my new teeth-”

“Shut up,” Touko demanded. But Jataro was in one of his moods again, and he drawled onwards;

“I’d deserve that. I couldn’t even stop the Demons from taking Nagisa and Masaru-kun.”

Their names sent a wave of adrenalin rushing back into Kotoko’s body as she recalled the previous day’s hell. She stood up straight, tiredness forgotten. “Nagisa and the other one…do you know where they are? They were taken by the adults last night.”

From behind Touko, Komaru staggered into the room. Her eyes were sunken into her skull, dark circles around them like eyeliner. “Oh. You’re awake.”

She slumped onto a chair, her dull eyes falling on Jataro’s cereal box. Touko poured her a bowl of cereal, muttering, “You’ve over-exerted yourself on those scouting missions. Let Hiroko-san take care of the rest.”

Komaru ignored her, pulling handfuls of cereal out the bowl and cramming them into her mouth as Touko refilled the bowl, straining to keep up with her compatriot’s pace.

Kotoko wasn’t sympathetic. “Nagisa! Where? Who has him? Tell me! We-we have to find them! And crush those goddamn useless adults so badly they’ll never want to mess with us again!” she screeched, punctuating each word with a fist pounded onto the table.

“Watch it, brat,” Touko warned.

Komaru continued chewing, oblivious to Kotoko’s shrieks. After she swallowed, she mumbled,

“Our informant within the adults’ Resistance says they’re holding Nagisa-kun and Masaru-kun at the main police station.”

“Nagisa-kun’s gonna be killed,” Jataro said bluntly. “Tortured, then killed. What a shame. A waste of perfectly-good Nagisa-kun.”

“Not before I’m lured out. They’ll use the other Warriors as bait to trap me.” Kotoko stood up. “You have to get them for us,” she demanded.

Komaru looked pained. Touko placed her palm on her heart. “Thing is...”

“We can’t,” Komaru finished.

“What? Why?” Kotoko stomped. “Can’t you tell how much trouble we’ll be in if you don’t rescue Nagisa-kun?”

“The Touwa Police Station is locked down. Adults are patrolling everywhere. Plus, my informant says only the adults’ new leader can open it for us. The only other person who can retake control of the Police Station is Haiji-san, since he was the one who implemented the system. And he isn’t talking to us right now.”

Kotoko groaned through her teeth. “I don’t care. Go to wherever Touwa’s hiding and drag him out if you have to. Cut off his thumbs, eyeballs, hair, whatever you need.” Kotoko morphed her face into the most deranged expression she could manage. Eyes bulging, head tilted, hands on hips. She leaned towards the older girls for good measure before realising it only made her look shorter, and leaned back to stare Komaru down the length of her nose. “Let’s go, now!”

Inside, she congratulated herself for her acting props. As long as it had been since her last lesson, she could still command the attention of a room.

Then Touko asked, “When did we start taking orders from kids?”

The spell was broken.

“Let me have a rest first. I’ve been out all night, looking for your friends. You can try contacting Haiji-san for help.” Komaru unclasped the walkie-talkie on her skirt. “We talked to him through this thing, but I think I upset him the last time we talked.”

“How long ago was that?”

Komaru licked her lips and swallowed. “Uh. Three months, give or take. Still, you should try contacting him,” she added quickly. “He’s holed up in Touwa Hills.” She offered the walkie-talkie to Kotoko, who snatched it out of Komaru’s hands.

“Last time we went there, Touwa damn near killed us with his turrets,” Touko said. “If he sees us, I think he’ll go through with it. Who knows how stable our boy is.”

Komaru shook her head. “A little hope never hurt.” She gestured towards them. “See if he responds.”

Before anyone could say anything else, there was a bang from outside the room. Touko and Komaru snapped to attention.

“The traps. Someone set one off.” A stun gun was in Touko’s hands. Kotoko didn’t know how it got there. “I really don’t want to do this.” Touko took a deep breath and ran out the kitchen’s door. “What are you doing, you idiot adults! I’m trying to eat breakfast here!”

Meanwhile, Komaru cranked the handle of a nearby window. The casement window peeled back from its top hinge. Between the sill and the window pane, there was enough room for the children to crawl out of. Kotoko peeked outside. A wooden fence separated the window from the road, blocking the kids’ view of the street. However, if there were any adults surrounding the house, they wouldn’t be able to see the Warriors either.

“Kotoko-chan, Jataro-kun. Get away from the house and call Haiji-san. Once he hears your voice, he’ll listen. He won’t be able to stop himself. I know he’s hurting.”

There was yelling. Footsteps approaching the front door. Walkie-talkie in hand, Kotoko pushed past Jataro and pulled herself into a sitting position on the windowsill. But before she fled, she couldn’t resist having one last dig at Komaru’s expense.

“He doesn’t hurt. He’s an adult. An evil, irredeemable, monster. Just like the rest of them.”

Without giving Komaru time to retort, she dropped out the window, landing on the dirt with a thump. Looking up, she could see Jataro’s flailing legs, one of which caught her on the shoulder. Annoyed, she yanked on his ankle and pulled him onto the ground.

“Thanks for saving us, Komaru-san. And tell Touko-san that too.” Jataro called out.

Komaru managed a smile through the window. “Stay safe, Jataro-kun.”  Kotoko snorted.

“And by the way, Kotoko-chan, did you ever think about the adults who owned this house? I put you in their child’s bedroom. It was comfortable, wasn’t it?”

Having got the last word, Komaru slammed the window shut. The sound reminded Kotoko of a guillotine.


	4. One More Road To Cross

Through a gap in the fence’s planks, the Warriors could see a large male with an eyepatch over his left eye pacing back and forth across the side of the house, steel pipe in hand.

“There’s only one of ‘em on this side.”

Kotoko caught sight of a manhole a few metres away from the gap in the fence. If she could squeeze through and make a dash for it, maybe the Demon wouldn’t catch her in time. She gagged at the thought of more particles of sewage clinging to her clothes and her hair and skin. Nevertheless, she was confident she could make into the sewer undetected.

But what about Jataro? He wasn’t skilled at sneaking around. He wasn’t skilled at anything, resisting all attempts by the Warriors of Hope to spur improvement. No matter how much she taunted him, he’d always take the words to heart. He’d never tried to prove her wrong, and so, he never had. He was a perpetual disappointment to the Warriors, and probably his parents as well.

“You’re always holding me back. Getting in my way, slowing me down,” she snarled at him.

Jataro was taken aback before he reset into his usual apathy. “I know I’m always holding everyone back. I’m too stupid to even understand why this time.”

“Because you’re too slow to make it through the fence to that manhole over there.”

She pointed through the fence.

“Oh, a sewer.”

Kotoko squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to think about it!” She steadied herself with deep breaths.

“Look, just run into the sewer on my count. You go first, alright? Since it’s where a creep like you belongs. Just make sure you don’t get caught by the Demon ‘cause if you do, don’t expect me to help you. Can you move quickly and quietly?”

He looked hurt. “I can follow instructions.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The adult passed the manhole, back facing the Warriors. “On my signal, get ready,” she hissed.

Without waiting for the signal, Jataro was already stepping through the fence and making a beeline for the manhole. He slid right in, his blonde crown disappearing into the blackness right before the adult turned around and began stalking up the road again.

“Good work, Jataro-kun,” she whispered, knowing Jataro wouldn’t hear her.

She waited until the adult passed the manhole again, before she followed Jataro’s path. Wide open road, three metres. It would only take her a few seconds to reach it. She moved with slow, large steps, eyes fixated on the Demon’s back.

But the soles her platform shoes were too large to move quietly, and she stumbled on a loose chunk of bitumen halfway to the hole. With a yelp, she fell flat on her face. The Demon spun around, pipe raised.

“Hey! Found them!”

She didn’t want to think about what would happen if she was caught. The fear gave her strength, and Kotoko pulled herself by her overlong nails on the bitumen, dragging her body the remaining metre to the manhole. Her head dipped over the hole, the fumes sending her head into a tipsy spin. With a final flail of her legs, she plunged in head-first. Out the corner of her peripheral vision, she saw the Demon swipe at her feet, felt air brushing her ankles.

But she was free, dropping to freedom.

For a few moments, Kotoko was weightless. She stretched her arms into the darkness, out of which, Jataro’s blonde mop popped up. He was still climbing the ladder down into the sewer and she cursed his slowness for a millisecond before her head crunched into his shoulder. He released his grip on the ladder and they fell the rest of the way into the sewer. Thankfully, she’d only collided into her a few feet off the ground, and they landed on concrete floor instead of the rank water.

Without prompting, Jataro got to his feet and dragged Kotoko by her wrists, the Demon’s shouts bouncing off the walls around them. The noise alternated between pleas for backup and curses for the Warriors of Hope. Kotoko massaged her temple with her free hand. Time seemed to be moving slowly. She could barely focus on Jataro’s hand around her wrist, the noise, or the pain. Up and down, left and right were the same. Every sensation distracted from the other.

“Let’s go!” Jataro shouted, his strained voice slicing through the cords entangling her brain. Feeling returned to her body, the Demon’s spiteful voice dimmed, and her sense of direction returned.

 _Focus on his voice,_ she told herself.

She was on her feet in a flash, letting him drag her down the tunnel, her oversized pink heels clattering on the concrete as she tried to keep up, dragged along by his momentum. Still the angry Demon voices dug into her eardrums, slithering into her brain.

She was sweating, and she’d barely exerted herself. The dim tunnel disappeared and the faces of leering men swam in her vision instead. Her father, her talent manager. Shouting at her to listen. Why wouldn’t she obey? She’d never be a real idol at this rate.

Kotoko screamed in the darkness to drown out the Demon’s voices. How long she screamed, she didn’t know. She thought she heard Jataro tell her to shut up.

Once her voice broke and petered out into a strangled croak, she fell to her knees. Jataro released her wrist to stop in his tracks as well.

All that was left was their soft panting, the distant echoes of angry Demons, and the trickle of sewer water. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she could make out the faint outline of Kemuri Jataro, hands on knees, head drooping over his feet. With a few heaving gags, he hacked phlegm onto the ground.

“My eardrums burst, Kotoko-chan.”

“I hope it stays that way. Those ears are wasted on a brain can’t process useful information.”

“I didn’t hear that. Yep. I’m deaf now. I’ll never have to listen to Kotoko-chan again. What a relief.”

She leaned up to punch his shoulder.

“You were too slow coming down the ladder. Landing on you hurt!”

“I was trying to catch you,”Jataro said. “How on earth did you fall into the hole? It was only a short walk.” He stuck out his tongue. “Dummy. I mean, I’m careless, but not as much as you.”

True, but Kotoko wasn’t about to admit that. “It’s those Demons’ fault anyway,” she said, trying to distract from her own failure.

“Yeah. Adults are evil, huh? All they do is force us to do things. Never any time for play.”

Kotoko wrung her hands. Of all the stupid company she had to keep. Why couldn’t it have been Jataro and not Nagisa who was kidnapped?

“I meant the high-schoolers. Couldn’t they have brought us to a place with better escape routes? Making me climb out windows into sewers. Ew!”

Jataro inhaled loudly, his breath quivering and echoing in the pipe. “It’s not their fault you’re uncoordinated.”

Kotoko huffed. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Jataro stepped towards her, his mouth hardened into a grimace and his irises darting between the floor and her face. “I’m not going to apologise to you forever, Kotoko. I’m sick of being treated like this…Is it fun for you? It isn’t for me.”

Kotoko’s neck prickled. “You need to calm down,” she said, raising her hands. He’d never spoken back to her like this, not when he had the mask on.

“All you do is abuse people. Me, Komaru-san, and Touko-san, and they’ve done so much for us. The Demons have probably imprisoned them because of you. You’re the entitled one, Kotoko-chan.” He drew himself up to his full height and tilted his head back to stare at her down his nose, mimicking her pose against Komaru from earlier. For the first time since she’d met Jataro, she felt scared of him. She crushed her kneecaps together. Jataro wasn’t supposed to be like this. Assertive and direct. Less rambling.

Kotoko reached into her skirt pocket, slowly. It was still dark, so Jataro probably couldn’t see her hand move. She felt something in her pocket. Her finger brushed thin grooves. A speaker.

The walkie-talkie!

She tossed the device at his head. He squeaked and shrunk backwards as it rebounded off his skull.

“Gah! That hurt!”

Getting back to her feet, she picked up the walkie talkie and held it out to the cowering boy. Satisfied that she’d reasserted her dominance, she hissed in the darkness of the filthy tunnel.

“I’m doing everything I can to keep us alive. I’ll never apologise for my way of doing things, especially since you’re not smart enough to survive on your own.”

He rubbed his head, grimacing at her. “Don’t act so tough. I still remember you crying yesterday when you thought Nagisa-kun was dead. Face it, we’re even bigger losers without Monaka-chan.”

That sent Kotoko’s blood pressure soaring. “Shut up! Don’t say her name!” she howled. “All we need to save Nagisa and Masaru is us, only us! No traitors, no Komaru or Genocider Syo, none of that! The Warriors of Hope will never be defeated as long as I’m breathing, even with deadweight like you holding me back.” As she ended her rant, so did her reserve of energy. Her legs trembled and she collapsed back into a crouch.

Truth was, she had no idea how to rescue Nagisa. Without Touwa, there was no way she could break into the police station. Despair crushed her heart. As smart as she was, she didn’t have Junko’s resources or Nagisa’s planning skills. Plus, her talents in the performing arts were only marginally less relevant than Jataro’s drawing when it came to prison breaks. Her nose began to run at the thought. Kotoko sulked in the darkness, hoping Jataro wouldn’t hear her sniffling.

Eventually, Jataro spoke up.

“Kotoko-chan?”

“I don’t care if you’re hungry.”

“I’m not hungry. Well, I am, but…” His voice trailed off as he sighed and shuffled over to the walkie-talkie lying next to him.

“I know I’m terrible at planning anything, but I have one idea.” He held the device out to her. “And that’s to never turn down help. Call the Demon. Call Haiji-san.”


	5. All of the Curses

Haiji had heard the voice often enough, taunting him through loudspeakers and TV screens.

“You brats! What did you do to Naegi?”

“Nothing,” mumbled the husky, strained voice of a boy. “She gave us this walkie-talkie and told us to contact you. I know people don’t want to hear my stupid voice, but we need your help and we really want to see Nagisa again.”

Haiji rubbed his nose with his bad arm. “I don’t believe this. All this effort, just to hear you assholes again.”

“Well, we’ve been trying to contact you for a few minutes now, and this is the sort of welcome we get?” Another high-pitched voice, bratty and impudent. “Forget it, Jataro. We’ll rescue them ourselves.”

“Rescue?” Haiji sat upright, pressing so hard on the walkie-talkies’ plastic button that it squeaked. “What the hell happened?” he yelled. He waited with bated breath before realising he was still holding down the button. He released it, letting Kotoko’s lo-fi voice waft over the speaker.

“-other Warriors were captured by the Demons. Komaru-san said they’re being held in Central Touwa Police Station, but apparently we can’t get inside without you. She said it was something to do with identification. And the Demons will let you in. Probably.”

Haiji licked his lips. His former allies appeared to have the upper hand over the Warriors. If two of them were captured, then these remaining idiots shouldn’t be hard to find.

“Where’s Komaru?”

“We don’t know. I was hiding with this useless trash in Komaru and Fukawa’s house when the Demons broke in-hey!” There were sounds of a scuffle during which the boy let out a muffled: "I'm not useless!"

“Stop fighting! Annoying brats! What happened to Komaru?” bellowed Haiji, but it was no use. He could still hear the commotion over the speaker. There were two thuds followed by the boy – Jataro – groaning.

“That hurt! Don’t kick me!”

“Then don’t interrupt me, idiot! Anyway,” Kotoko continued, “I escaped with Jataro, but I don’t know what happened to the stinky lady or Komaru-san. I assume the Demons will have taken them away to where Nagisa-kun is being held.”

“Especially since you made all that noise trying to escape,” Jataro whined. “They definitely know Komaru-san was hiding us now, and they’re probably ripping her hair out and strangling her with it.”

“Are you saying that’s my fault?” Haiji sighed as the sounds of fighting restarted. He waited until Kotoko’s impudent voice sounded again:

“Stay down! Right. Um, Touwa, are you gonna help us or not?”

Haiji began to giggle. It morphed into a laugh, then a scream.

“Help you? Are you mad? I’d rather let her die! She tricked me! Me. Me! Lying, manipulating little shit. Just like you. Go rescue her. I hope all of you die, you homicidal, sociopathic, shitty brats. Then, I’ll help you dig graves for your corpses, you worthless vermin!”

With satisfaction, he released the button and waited for a response.

None came.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

“Stupid thing.” He tossed the walkie-talkie back into the cupboard. He stared at the foot of the cupboard and all the tools and supplies he’d pulled out desperately trying to get at the stupid toy. Now he had all this to clean up. What a waste of time.

Before he slammed the door shut, Kotoko’s voice hissed through the speaker.

“I don’t know how many people you’ve talked to in the last three months, but Komaru was wrong. You seem to be doing just fine without other people. Well, since you don’t care about helping us, we won’t need the walkie-talkie from here on. I’ll let Jataro toss it into the sewage. But before I go, _Monaka’s older brother_ , let me tell you that we’ll find Nagisa-kun and Masaru without your help. And if we die trying, that’ll be on you. If Komaru-san and Touko-san are executed by the adults, that’s on you as well. Hell, maybe they’re already dead. But you won’t ever know. Have a good life.”

The walkie-talkie crackled for the final time. Blissful silence.

Haiji stared at the fibres on the carpet, interlaced with dust.

Three months.

He hadn’t realised it had been that long.

* * *

 

He’d left behind the coat. It made him too recognisable. He’d also shaved his head and his beard. Once he got back to his room, he’d have a hell of a cleanup job on his hands with all the hair scattered in the bath.

But now, crouching in front of his police station, desperate not to be seen by the adults inside. He felt like a criminal in his own city, hiding in front of his own police station.

“Those kids…”

They weren’t around. Maybe they were already inside.

He couldn’t just walk up to the front. _Hi, how have you been, everyone? What? Me? Where did I dip off to the past few months? Haha. Well, sorry I disappeared, I had urgent business to take care of. As the leader of the Resistance – if you can believe that, yes. It’s all sorted now. Are there kids in the cells, by any chance?_

They’d rightfully haul him off in chains. He’d be lucky not to be executed before the Warriors of Hope.

“Making me come out here…”

He tapped the handle of his aluminium baseball bat against his pocket to check his Touwa entrance card was still there. If he could get to any entrance of the building, the card would let him in.

“The back it is.”

He kissed the shoulder of his red flannel for luck, and sped around to the back of the building, a small sliding glass door with a scanner blinking red. He tucked the bat into the crook of his injured elbow, and pressed the card against the scanner with his free hand, praying a stray magnet hadn’t wrecked the card’s chip.

The light flickered to green, and the glass door slid open. Most adults were probably asleep by now. Sloppy. Without him, the adults had gotten complacent. Or maybe they were convinced of their impending victory now that they had the Warriors of Hope in chains.

He passed some other people as he walked along the clean hallways. They were swathed in bandages too, in every place Haiji could imagine. Arms wrapped in tourniquets, head bandages covering one eye, half-naked women with bandages wrapped across their stomach. There was even a man on crutches who was carrying a knife in his mouth as he diligently patrolled the floor. He nodded at Haiji as he passed, and Haiji saluted back. His heart scrambled in fear, worried that he’d been recognised. But the man kept swinging on his crutches past Haiji down the hall. Haiji grimaced to himself in relief and disgust. One broken arm amongst this mess didn’t look so out of place.

If only he was still leader of the humans, they’d never have been hurt. Still hiding, running from the Monokumas for the rest of their lives. If only he’d talked his father out of that deal with Enoshima. If only he’d seen through Monaka earlier. If only he hadn’t felt so much guilt. If only he hadn’t hit her for her insolence.

He shook his head. If he started thinking about that now, he’d think forever. Not a rabbit hole he wanted to go down. He returned his attention through navigating the station, avoiding the eyes of the few stragglers he passed by. Where was everyone? Asleep? Out hunting? It didn’t seem very co-ordinated.

A few minutes of walking later, Haiji realised that he was lost. Formerly, the station’s walls had been painted white. But they had been repainted sickly shades of yellow, brown, and green as to resemble a military base, and it had thrown his sense of direction off. He grabbed the shoulder of a passing pink-haired woman in a puffy jacket. She seemed vaguely familiar.

“Excuse me, miss.” He lowered his tone to sound more like a battle-hardened adult. “Could you please direct me to a prison cell?” He bowed his head, hoping she wouldn’t recognise him. Thankfully, the woman seemed too bored to notice.

“Why? You a Monokuma in disguise?”

Months of barely talking to anyone had stunted his communication skills a bit. Clearing his throat, he stuttered out, “Sorry. Um, I m-meant, where are the prison cells? In my-this-our station?”

The pink-haired woman took the cigarette out of her mouth and used it to point behind him.

“Turn around, third door on the right. Follow the staircase back downstairs and follow the signs from there.”

“Ah. Thank you. This colour scheme makes my head spin. Sorry.” With a final bow, he hurried back the way he came before she could recgonise him.

Sure enough, the woman's instructions were correct, and he soon reached the cells. A staircase leading downwards into a steel plate for a door. He checked around to make sure nobody was following him, and scanned his card again.

It flickered green, and Haiji dashed in. The cells were lit, but the overhead lights were dim enough that he could barely see. All he heard was someone’s light snoring and sniffling. Fearing the possibility of guards, he whispered into the dark,

“Komaru-san?”

“Close enough.”

Through the bars of the cell door closest to him, Haiji could make out someone crouching on the bed. The figure stumbled towards him, revealing blue hair and an impetuous gaze. “Komaru-san said you’d come,” the boy said. He almost sounded disappointed to see Haiji, which paled in comparison to Haiji’s disappointment.

He knew that Komaru wouldn’t tolerate leaving the Warriors behind. This kid looked miserable, trails of tears staining his cheeks. But there was a hint of relief and gratitude in his widened eyes, and the ghost of a smile danced across his lips. It was almost enough for Haiji to forgive him.

Almost.

His father’s bloodied, decapitated head, discarded at the foot of a velvet staircase rolled through his mind again, and he tore his eyes from the boy’s to walk on. The boy didn’t say anything, perhaps knowing that knew he deserved to be abandoned too. Haiji’s chest constricted.

Soon, he found another occupied cell. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he could make out round glasses and pale skin. Touko’s hair looked more matted than usual.

“Oh, look who it is.”

“I can get you out.” Haiji fumbled for his ID card again. “Give me a second…”

“Are Jataro and Kotoko with you?”

He couldn’t tell Touko that he’d rejected them, then had a change of heart and charged in all by himself. He’d look ridiculous.

“Well, I’m not sure. They only contacted me to say that you were captured, and then they ran off somewhere without telling me.”

She squinted at him, disbelieving.

“Where’s Komaru?” Haiji asked, trying to distract her. Touko wasn’t having it.

“Don’t think for a second that we’ll be leaving here without the Warriors. I know you passed by Nagisa-kun's cell on the way here.”

Haiji rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Be grateful that I’m rescuing you first.”

With a buzz, the cell door swung open. Haiji bowed dramatically as Touko stepped past.

“I hope you got an escape plan, because as hideously unrecognisable as you are, we aren’t.”

“Well…”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead. It had been an impulse decision to launch his rescue mission, and sans bat, he wasn’t well prepared.

“Why don’t you let down your hair and take off your glasses?” he suggested.

“There’s a camera right above you, you know. We don't have time to play dress up.”

Haiji peered through his bangs to swivel his eyeballs above him, seeing the red light blinking in its casing. He hadn’t been to the prison in months and it seemed like he’d forgotten everything about it.

“Then let’s get out of here, real quick!” Without waiting, he took off further down the infinitely long dark hallway. He came across the silhouette of a girl curled up on the floor. In seconds, he was holding his ID card to the scanner with a shaking hand. As soon as the light turned green, he leapt inside to seize the sleeping figure's wrist. “Wakey wakey, Komaru-chan, guess who, that’s right, it’s me, we’re going!”

Komaru woke with a jolt, allowing Haiji to tug her outside the cell. She grasped the situation in a moment, as well as the absence of her fellow prisoners. “We’re not leaving without Masaru and Nagisa!” Komaru protested as she tugged on her arm.

Haiji groaned.

“Look, I owe you guys a little bit, alright? But those kids? They’re murderous sociopaths.”

“Don’t tell me you came here only to rescue us…”

“Let the other two Warriors rescue their friends if they want. I’m not here to babysit. Now, where’s your megaphone gun? Find that, and let’s get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving without Nagisa and Masaru-kun,” she repeated. For emphasis, she grabbed onto the bar of her cell door, wrapping her fingers around it until her knuckles paled.

“Me neither,” Touko piped up.

“We don’t have time. Look,” Haiji rubbed his head. “The kids will slow us down. Even if you rescue them, what are you gonna do? Adopt them?”

“I’ll keep them safe until Future Foundation gets to Touwa City.”

Haiji stared at her, stunned. After the months of violence and fighting, she had the gall to tell it to his face, that she still believed in that inefficient bureaucracy of utopian elitists. Pressure built up in his skull. This was his reward for sneaking inside and risking his life.

“They aren’t coming!” he screamed, stomping his feet for emphasis. “It’s been months since this city went to shit, and they haven’t sent so much as an expired ration pack! They’re never coming! They’ve abandoned us! Punished us, because we made a deal with Despair!”

Komaru dug her heels into the concrete. “My brother would never abandon us,” she said through clenched teeth. “I believe in him. He’ll triumph over Despair, and then he’ll come for us.”

Haiji threw Komaru’s arm to her side. “Whatever you say, Komaru. I’m leaving.”

Turning away, he stomped back to the exit, uncaring of whether Komaru and Touko would follow him. The door was in his reach before it flung open in front of him to reveal a single bald woman. She held an electroshock weapon, a bulkier version of Touko’s stun gun.

“Koma-” was all he managed before the woman jammed the weapon under his chin and fired.


	6. A Minute to Pray, A Second to Die

The first thing Haiji processed was that he was in the foyer of his police station. The second was that he was supposed to rescue Komaru. He jerked around, but both his arms were tied around his back. So were his feet. Duct tape secured his mouth shut. He became aware of heat beating down on his head, and he looked skywards into a glass dome, the sun pouring down rays on his head.

“We thought you’d come back to us. Never like this, though.”

The bald woman who’d apprehended him kicked him in the gut. He failed to suppress the wince through the tape.

“We’ve had time to set up this police station to our liking. Even Touwa isn’t going to walk in and out of here without us noticing. We were stunned when we saw you come in. Even more so when we heard you talking to Naegi and Fukawa. When did you get so familiar with those traitors, huh?”

He felt his hand brush skin and he craned his neck behind him to see the white sailor uniform and blue scarf of Komaru. She was tied up to him, and he was glad they couldn’t see each other’s faces. He nudged her, but she didn’t respond. She’d probably been drugged to reduce their chances of escape. Behind him, he also could make out of the corner of his eye that Touko tied up alone to a railing, similarly gagged and relieved of her glasses. And dangling by their handcuffed wrists from the ceiling were four of the five Warriors of Hope. The collection was complete, sans-

“Monaka will come to us when she finds out all the people who ever knew her are held captive by us. You should’ve told us who she was earlier. A shame we had to find out from her mouth.”

The bald woman gestured to the adultsbehind her. Through his blurred vision, Haiji saw them mounting cameras atop tripods.

“Begin the transmission,” the woman ordered.

“Touwa Monaka. My name is Asakura Riko, and I lead the Resistance. I don’t know where you are now, but I think you’re a smart enough girl to intercept this communication. My message is simple: shut down the Monokuma Kids and surrender yourself, and I promise that your death will be easier than the ones you inflicted on my comrades. Fail to do so within the hour, and I will execute one of your comrades on the hour, every hour. Then these teenage girls, and lastly, your brother.”

“She doesn’t care about us,” the blue-headed Warrior croaked. “Don’t waste your time.”

Next to him, the red-haired boy’s eyes widened, and he thrashed in his cuffs.

“Don’t kill us, please! Please! I’m begging you, I haven’t hurt anybody since-”

“Shut up, Masaru!” Kotoko yelled, and the red-haired boy choked back his sob, head hanging. His eyes met Haiji’s and he gurgled, “Lucky you. You’ll get to watch us die first. I hope you’re happy, asshole.”

“Gag them,” Asakura ordered. Turning back to her camera, she spread her arms and snickered, “Listen to your loyal subordinates squabble. They expect nothing of you. I repeat, one hour, starting from now. Live beyond their expectations, Monaka-tan.”

“Way ahead of you.”

The voice came through the walkie talkie attached to the leader’s vest strap. It was a high-pitched, nasally, monotone snicker, cradling malice in every taunting syllable.

The voice of a Monokuma.

The only hint of what was coming were the shadows falling across the ground.

Glass shards, metal frames, and concrete fell all around Haiji, accompanied by the sound of their shattering. Haiji flailed, using his legs to push himself and Komaru’s body away from the mayhem, closing his eyes as glass shards continued to bounce off his skull.

Two Ball Monokumas dropped from the ceiling amidst all the rubble. Following them were dozens of Monokumas with black and white parachutes, cackling and shrieking as they descended.

“Kill the hostages!” yelled Asakura as she smashed the first Monokuma that landed with her stun gun’s handle. “Somebody, kill them!” she repeated as three more surrounded her.

Nobody was listening. The other adults were split between fending off the Monokuma swarm, or fleeing without having fired a shot, mostly the latter.

Haiji managed to loosen the rope around his legs somewhat by thrashing on the spot before a Siren Monokuma - half white, with the rest of its body in yellow and brown stripes - stood over Haiji. Its red eye flashed, and he blinked the stars out of his own eyes. Nevertheless, he refused to turn away. He spoke to the monster’s face through his pain, knowing Monaka was on the other side of the malevolence gleaming in that red eye. “You’ve come to kill me yourself? Do it. I’ve got no regrets. Not even bashing you up. You monster.”

The Monokuma raised its claws. Haiji kept his eyes wide open, determined to see his end, to never give his sister the satisfaction of seeing him flinch. But the Monokuma swayed around to his side, and slashed through his bindings instead. Haiji didn’t move, waiting for the realisation that his head was disconnected from his body.

It never came. He tentatively lifted an arm to check his body still could receive signals from his brain.

“Why?”

“You owe Monaka, brother…” the Monokuma chuckled in its own voice.

With a parting glare at the hideous robot, Haiji focused his attention on Komaru. He grabbed Komaru and shook the unconscious girl.

“Komaru, wake up. We need to get out of here.” He continued shaking her and pinched her cheeks, but she wouldn’t move.

Seeing his attempts were getting nowhere, the Monokuma leaned in and blared its siren. Komaru woke with a screech. Its work accomplished, the Monokuma turned to Haiji once more.

“Am I supposed to thank you?” he snapped.

The Monokuma turned tail and waddled off to help the others rout the remaining humans. Meanwhile, a single Monokuma was in the process of freeing the Warriors and Touko. The room was bare of adults, all of them having seemingly escaped. At least none had died in the attack on the police station, he comforted himself. The adults had been battle-hardened enough to know when to run. Even the Monokumas seemed slower in their pursuit.

At his feet, Komaru groaned and rubbed her temples. “Arrgh…”

Haiji shook the remainder of his bindings off his wrist and helped her back to her feet. In seconds, Touko and Masaru had staggered over to him, the former pulling Komaru away from his grasps with a glare cold enough to make Haiji reflexively raise his arm in surrender.

“Why is he with us?”

Haiji turned around to face the end of Nagisa’s indignant finger. “I’m your best friend in the whole goddamn world right now, you obnoxious brat.”

“Haiji-san tried to help us. All of us,” Komaru slurred. Even in her current state, she was still trying to be diplomatic. “And he’s going to take us to Touwa Hills where it’s safe. Aren’t you?”

Haiji sighed inwardly.

“That’s right. Back to Touwa Hills, before the adults regroup.”

Masaru grimaced. “Not like we have a choice, do we?”

Haiji shrugged and walked away without another word. The others trotted behind him. “I’m just glad everyone’s okay,” Jataro mumbled. Nobody paid him any attention.

 

* * *

 

The fleeing adults had left the front door open, allowing them to jog the rest of the way back. Komaru was still dazed from being knocked out, but she pushed on with everyone’s encouragement, bar Kotoko, who whined the whole way about the effort it took to run. Haiji managed to be gracious enough to offer Komaru his uninjured shoulder to lean on, but she refused his for Touko's.

As for Haiji, he was buzzing with exhilaration that he hadn’t felt in ages, the type that only came with success. A plan had gone right for once. Perhaps not entirely as intended, but the end result was everything he could’ve hoped for. He was free. Once he got back to Touwa Hills and dropped everyone off to bed, he was going to swill the remainder of his alcohol stores.

Soon, the spire of Touwa Hills loomed large above him, illuminated by the yellow and orange glow of the setting sun. His head crested over the hill leading to his building’s front gate.

His face fell at what he saw.

“Too late.”

After all that, he was beaten back to his base. An adult was standing in front of it. Haiji laughed. He had no more weapons save his good arm, and a pack of sickly dazed kids in even less shape to fight.

“Aahh, I give up,” he said as he approached them. The figure didn’t budge. As he approached, he could make out a pink-haired woman with a blue jacket and an unlit cigarette in her mouth.

“You!” he exclaimed, recognising the woman as the one who’d given him directions back at the police station.

“Hiroko-san!”

Komaru and Touko sprinted past Haiji and leapt into her arms for a group hug. Haiji turned back to the Warriors of Hope, who made varying disgusted faces at the scene.

“I don’t want to grow up to be a Demon,” Nagisa sniffed. Masaru patted him on the back comfortingly.

“This is turning into quite the party.” Haiji walked up to the three women. “I didn’t expect room for this many guests.”

“Then make some,” Touko snapped. “Hiroko’s our only friend within the Resistance.”

“Only friend?” Haiji saluted an unfazed Hiroko. “Thanks for all your assistance back there.”

“Sorry that I couldn’t get you girls out. I was on my way back into the base, but I ran into our boy here.” She blew out another puff of smoke in Haiji’s face. “So I thought I’d let him have a shot at it. Less risky for me. I was even kind enough to give him directions. Didn’t matter though; turns out this one wasn’t prepared for escape anyway.”

 _What a frivolous woman_ , Haiji thought. He wanted to tell her to disappear permanently, but with Komaru so happy to see her, it would be churlish of him. As loath as Haiji would be to admit it, he was also in the best mood he’d been in months. He pretended to think about it for a few moments.

“If you’ll excuse the rough décor,” he half-groaned, half-sighed, “you all can come inside.”

Masaru cheered and grabbed Jataro to spin him around in a rough waltz. Even Kotoko and Nagisa managed pained smiles of their own, ones that didn’t quite reach their eyes.

“No worries. I could use a place to rest, Touwa.” Hiroko winked, and any second thoughts about letting strangers into his impregnable fortress were washed away by his blush and shallow breath.

“Y-yeah…”

Touko leaned out of Hiroko’s grasp to lightly punch him in the shoulder. He swore he felt the beginnings of a rash tingle on his arm as germs and rotting skin cells grafted themselves onto his flannel. “Just make sure there aren’t any dead bodies around this time.”


	7. So Long As They Fear Us

After many complaints about the piles of unwashed plates and the smell of rotting garbage that apparently only he couldn’t notice, Haiji found the motivation to begin cleanup. Frustrated with his slow progress, his new roommates lent their assistance, so that they could start gagging on the smell of Hiroko’s cigarettes instead of rubbish. Once the Warriors were smacking each other with brooms and full garbage bags, spraying streaks of decayed sauce and egg they’d spent the last painstaking hour clearing up, Haiji knew he’d done enough. Eventually, the kids tired themselves out, and decided to pass out in his living room, as if Haiji couldn’t just pick up a knife and run them all through in their dazed states. He felt small. Nobody in his own apartment considered him a threat.

“Something wrong, Touwa?” Hiroko asked from behind him. He gave a small jump and tore his eyes off the half-asleep children.

“No. Just wondering how they survived this long, that’s all.”

To take his mind off things, Haiji scrounged up a quilt cover stuffed in a cupboard for the Warriors to share. Hiroko conquered his couch for her resting quarters, and Komaru found two sleeping bags for herself and Touko, leaving Haiji with bare carpet and three bath towels to serve as a bed. Despite that, he felt content. Before they could turn off the lights, Komaru had one last bit of business, calling him over to her purple sleeping bag at the foot of Hiroko’s couch.

From inside the bag, Komaru pressed her forefingers together. “Sorry to raise this all of a sudden, but…Hiroko-san, did you find it?”

“Find what?” Haiji asked.

“Oh, right. After the adults took Komaru and Touko away, I searched the girls’ house. Found this under a floorboard.” Hiroko leaned up off the couch to pull a black box out of her jacket and hold it out towards Haiji. It was the transmitter that Komaru showed him when she first came to Touwa Hills.

“You’ve done so much already. Why not a little bit more, hm? Engineering is your thing, right?”

“I wasn’t ever at Monaka’s level.” He resisted stuttering on the name. “I was an all-rounder. A bit here and there, just enough to understand what was going on in our various divisions, but I wasn’t going to be inventing anything.” Haiji grimaced at the device before placing his hand upon the box. “Still, I know enough. And if I don’t, then I can learn.”

“Thank you, Haiji-san.” Hiroko moved her hand away, letting him hold the jammer on his own. He tossed it over in his remaining hand, a skill he’d become quite good at.

“Give me a few days. In the meantime, we’ll find somewhere to broadcast the jamming signal from a suitable height. Probably at the top of this building. Once we do that...”

“It’ll be over.”

Haiji thought about the children, trapped in their own heads, unable to control their bodies or master their own minds, bearing witness to their own bodies partaking in the horror of endless violence.

“I don’t know what kind of mental state they’ll be in once the helmets shut down. You’ll need to help them.”

He became aware that the Warriors of Hope were glaring at him from their quilt cover across the room with accusing eyes.

“ _We_ will need to help them,” he corrected himself.

“If they’re under any distress, it’s partly on you too.”

There was determination in Nagisa’s eyes as he said that, the same type as when he was on those TV screens months ago, taunting the adults as he ordered the Monokumas on their genocide. A dozen retorts danced on Touwa’s tongue, but he bit them all back.

Instead, he held up the transmitter. “If you want me to upgrade it, I have one condition; that we all end this together.”

* * *

 

For the next week, they amused themselves by cleaning up one floor of Touwa Hills a day, while Komaru and Touko went out collecting parts for Haiji to modify his transmitter. Hiroko returned to the adults, ostensibly to avoid raising suspicion, though Haiji suspected she just wanted to avoid the cleanup work.

The head Touwa himself would occasionally leave his room for food and baths. He ignored the apartment invaders, mostly. But every day, Komaru would bring back packets of instant ramen and – oddly for the Warriors – fresh vegetables. With a shout of “Dinner time!”, she was able to lure Haiji out of his room to join the children. They sat around the wide table, chatting as they dug into polystyrene bowls with plastic forks.

“Nice weather, isn’t it, Touko?”

“It’s the same as yesterday. Cold. I don’t know how you keep going out in that tiny skirt.”

“We’re lucky that it doesn’t snow here. We might get frostbite.”

“Fros-wha? What's that?”

“People’s fingers snap off when it’s cold. Usually blood spurts out everywhere when you cut a finger off, but when it’s cold, the blood freezes in mid-air. I bet it’d look cool.”

“Argh, stop!" Let me eat in peace, you creep!”

"You asked, Masaru-kun. Don't complain when someone explains things to you. Though I suppose I wouldn't have done it in such a manner."

“Boys are gross. I don't know how I've put up with you idiots.”

And so on. Meaningless chatter.

* * *

 

On the sixth day, Haiji snuck out of Touwa Hills at dawn, before anyone else was awake. He had business that he needed to settle by himself, preferably without Komaru around to intrude. If she came looking, it would be easy to guess where he was headed. He was an adult, after all, and the rational adults would always seek the safest place in the city. And with the police station compromised, that would be the-

“Ugh. Sewers stink even worse now…”

There were telltale signs the adults had been here recently. The adults hadn’t had time to clean the blood trails off the gangplanks in their hasty escape from the Monokumas. Sloppy, he thought. Then again, he wasn’t in a position to be judging others for their laziness. He made his way through the rank sewers again, braving the smell and promising himself another shower later. Soon, he opened a door into a cavernous area, giving him a view of the new adult base down below.

They were back in his old base again, just as he had thought. Only this time, they’d dug a pit inside the ruins, allowing them a clear view of any attacker who marched in from the top. Waist-high shattered concrete chunks served as a barrier around the side. Haiji peered over them from his perch. The adults gathered in the pit they had dug for themselves in the sewer barely numbered fifty. That was what remained of the thousands who’d died pathetically alongside him as he scrambled out of the sewer all those months ago.

Haiji slid down a ladder near the gangplank and approached the pit with his good arm raised to signal his lack of weaponry. The brown-robed guards noticed him and raised the tips of their spears at him. He felt his heartbeat quicken. He regretted not leaving a note behind at Touwa Hills, just so the others could know his probable place of death.

“Stay back, Haiji!” one of the guards screeched. That eased his mood somewhat. They were more scared of him than he was of them.

Emboldened, he called out, “Where’s Asakura-san?”

A figure in blue overalls was already elbowing their way to the front of the guards as he spoke. It was the bald woman.

“Where are the kids?” Asakura snapped. She had lost her stun gun since last time, and was now pointing a javelin cobbled together out of wooden fragments at his head.

Haiji kept his arm raised. “I’m not offering them to you. I got something better. The Monokuma Kids will be deactivated, and the war ends. But before I do that, I want a guarantee the children won’t be hurt.”

There was laughter from the massed adults. “Oh. Haiji wants to spare the lives of the children,” Asakura snorted.

He ignored the crowd. “Time is against the adu- you,” he corrected mid-sentence. “You’ve been on the losing side of the war too long to stage a comeback now, I know. If this continues for much longer, there won’t be enough of you left to fill a prison, let alone a city.”

“Because you abandoned us!”

“I did. I was cowardly, I ran. I accept that. But I can make this right. I can help save all of us. Tomorrow morning, the kids won’t be a threat anymore. I want a guarantee that they’ll walk the streets, unharmed. You guys hear?”

“Sure. We’ll leave them alone. For a few seconds.”

“You say that. But I’ll tell you who won’t stand for it. Future Foundation. I’ve been in contact with them, and they’re coming." It was a lie, but clicked his tongue to cover his trembling jaw. "And if they hear that you’ve killed a single one of those kids,” Haiji shook his head, “I don’t want to go into details. Just believe me when I say you wish you were dead. That woman you fear, Naegi Komaru?”

The mention of her name drew a hiss from the crowd. Haiji continued, “Her brother leads Future Foundation. Komaru says he’s like her, but multiplied by a hundred. You should be scared of him more than the Monokuma Kids, ‘cause he’s defeated far worse monsters than those.”

“Don’t try to bluff us.”

All he saw was himself in Asakura’s eyes, defiant and unyielding, even after defeat upon defeat had swept all his pride away.

“Those are my terms. What you do from here is up to you. Just make sure it’s a decision you won’t have to regret.”

With one last throw of the dice, one of the adults mewled at him.

“I don’t understand how you can do this to us.”

Haiji kicked a loose rock at his feet, watching it roll off the sloping remnant of a roof tile towards the last few adults underneath him, causing them to fall over each other as they tried to dodge. The rock split into pieces upon hitting the ground.

“Use your imagination.”

* * *

 

As soon as he was far enough out of the sewer entrance to have the morning light blast him in the face, Haiji spotted Komaru against the background of sunrise, sprinting towards him in her pyjamas and slippers. Once she was near, Komaru doubled over from the strain, gasping out:

“Touko told me she heard you go outside, but surely you didn’t just-”

“The adults will leave the kids alone. Just tell the Warriors to uphold their end of the peace.”

She stared at him. “How did you convince them?”

“I made a promise. One that I think I’ll be able to keep.” He kept on marching past the stunned girl. “Come on,” he called over his shoulder. “It’s best they don’t see you.”

Komaru maintained a small distance behind him on the return journey to Touwa Hills, close enough for him to hear the skip in her step the whole way back.


	8. Leave or Live With It

Haiji shook the jamming device, listening for rattling. There was none. He placed the finished box on his table and patted it, feeling the tiredness wash over in in one great wave. All that was left was to activate it, and the Monokuma Kids’ helmets would come off. For the first time since he started work that night, he looked outside the window of his apartment. The sun was peeking over the horizon, a sliver of yellow sneaking through the blinds, illuminating the assortment of concrete slabs jutting out from the ground, so far beneath him.

“Can one of you kids wake up Komaru? And contact Hiroko-san, too.” Haiji didn’t turn around from his desk. “The modifications on her jammer are done.”

Partially hidden behind the bedroom door, Kotoko shoved Masaru. “Idiot! I told you not to breathe with your mouth open, you-you mouthbreather!”

“It was Jataro!” he protested, but Jataro kicked Masaru behind the knee, hard enough to make the athlete buckle.

“I don’t make noise when I breathe through my mouth!” Jataro had less patience for being the punching bag of the Warriors these days, leading to a lot of physical confrontations. They’d even put a hole the size of Haiji’s fist through a wall in their second day in Haiji’s apartment, forcing him to put a moratorium on brawls. A week later, he had another hole, this time through the kitchen window from a thrown frying pan.

“Yes, you do! Your breath stinks!” Masaru snapped before tackling him to the ground. Stepping over the fighting boys, Kotoko pushed the door open.

“We were here to make sure you’re not slacking off.”

Haiji swung his arm over the jammer. “As you can see, it’s complete.” He looked over Kotoko’s shoulder. “Can you two not scuff up the carpet and put your energy to better uses? I did ask you to find Komaru.”

Jataro pushed himself off Masaru. “I’ll find her! I’m useful!” he said and ran back into the lounge.

“No, I’ll find Komaru-san!” Masaru picked himself off the ground and followed Jataro, leaving Haiji and Kotoko alone with the rising sun watching over them. Kotoko pressed her forehead against the sliding door leading out to the apartment’s balcony, staring in awe at the view of the ruined city. Even under the dawn light, the skyline looked hideous without any intact glass to reflect the sun.

“I didn’t think I’d be living like this.”

“That makes two of us, little girl.”

Her hands balled into fists. “We were supposed to rule the world.”

“Don’t I know the feeling.” He laughed. Kotoko didn’t.

“It was a stupid dream. Why did I think we could make things better by brainwashing the other kids?” Kotoko kicked the window hard, which wobbled and flexed under the impact. Her face remained sullen as she lashed out again. “The jammer will work, right? You haven’t done any sneaky Demon things to it, have you?” Her voice rose to a blazing screech.

“Don’t think so badly of me, alright?” Haiji’s firm grip pulled her off the window. As soon as the glass was out of reach from her legs, Kotoko slouched in his grasp.

“Good.” She sniffed, and squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a warm tear leak out. A real one.

“Monaka and Junko manipulated all of you. And me. Don’t blame yourself.” He was in quiet awe at himself for saying the words, and for being sincere too. But he knew that he’d forfeited the right to hold grudges when he’d followed Komaru’s suggestion to bring everyone here. Home.

Kotoko, on the other hand, was precocious enough to flick his arm off her, as if it was an insect. “I can’t blame Monaka and Junko-nee for everything. We made the Monokuma helmets and put them on the other children. Some of them were my classmates.” Kotoko shuddered and opened her eyes, staring at what remained of the distorted skyline through her tears.

“It’s partly my fault too. Someone had to say no to Dad’s plans. That person wasn’t me until it was too late.”

“Yeah. You’re awful,” she sniffed. “How do you live with yourself, Touwa-san?”

Haiji sighed. He didn’t answer for a moment. Then he began, haltingly:

“I think…only bad people don’t try to fix their mistakes, even when they realise what those mistakes are. So try to correct them as best you can. That’s it. Maybe nothing I’ll do in life will make up for what happened here. But running away never made me happy.”

“After what Touwa has done, I’m just grateful to have the clothes on my back.” He paused and pressed his palm on the glass door as well, letting the cold air condense around it into beads of water. “All these ruined buildings and scorched earth. This is what’s left of my company, my family, my name. I have to show the world that Touwa was more than just a deathtrap of a city and the weapons manufacturer that destroyed the world. And as long as I’m breathing, I’ll have the chance to make those amends, and maybe history won’t remember us entirely as villains.”

“I don’t think either you or me will get that lucky.”

“Oh well. Then I’ll say I’m doing this so I get a comfy jail cell once Future Foundation comes to haul my sorry ass away. Helping Komaru out will count for something, right?”

Ironing out the tremors in his voice, he continued:

“For the moment, I found a purpose that makes life worth living. I can’t find a purpose for you, but I know where to start looking.”

Kotoko looked up at him, puzzled.

“Why don’t you try being a little nicer to your friends, Kotoko-chan? Jataro-kun’s grown up a little bit. You should too.”

There were knocks on the wall and the indignant voices of the other Warriors in argument again. “Haiji!” Komaru called from outside the office. “Hiroko’s coming. Are you ready?” With that, Haiji groaned, “I’m on my way,” and hurried out.

Kotoko watched him go, wiping the last tears from her eyes and straightening her back. They were one step closer to ending the nightmare. Freed from their helmets, the children would earn the forgiveness of the remaining adults. And maybe the adults could learn to let go of their hate in turn. Future Foundation would come soon to take them away from this cursed city. She’d forget about all the evil she did, and grow up to live a normal life, as a normal teenager growing into a normal adult. She had to believe it. Kotoko stared through Haiji’s open bedroom door, a cacophony of seven voices competing for volume on the other side.

“Ah, what was the point? We were Demons already.”

 

* * *

All their hands lay atop each other. Haiji’s was at the bottom, wide and mismatched underneath the Warriors. Hiroko’s warm hand separated theirs from Touko’s clammy one, leaving Komaru to cap off the tower.

“We’ll press it all together now,” Haiji said. He felt the pressure of seven hands on his knuckles.

"There's no need to resist," Komaru said softly.

"I'm not."

There was a click as his palm pushed onto the button.

 

* * *

The Monokuma helmets blinked red once in the eyes, then split in two to reveal the faces of children underneath. Some were relieved, dancing and running through the streets, screaming in joy. Most were dazed, walking in circles and talking disjointedly to each other. A few were comatose, slumped in the spot where their helmet had come off. On Haiji’s grainy black-and-white security camera feed, one boy clutched at his helmet, screaming, sobbing, as other children pried the remnants of his helmet from his grasp and paraded him through the rubble, tossing him up in the air and back repeatedly in triumph while the helmet was stomped on until it was just another misshapen lump of metal in a ruined city. The few brave adults who dared ventured outside watched from afar, refusing to go near the children in fear that the nightmare wasn’t over yet, and the children could still pick up their pipes and rocks and restart the madness. Everyone in Haiji’s apartment was hypnotised by the screen. He wondered how long they were going to stand there in silence, just staring.

There were months ahead of rehabilitation for both adults and children. New treaties would have to be drawn, boundaries erected, amends made. Haiji would have to take charge again, leveraging his depreciated name for all its remaining worth to bring the adults back around. It was an immense task.

Not to worry, Future Foundation would come around to help them soon. Komaru told him so every day, and he believed it. Left unspoken was his dread over what Future Foundation would do to him. With Touwa City secured, Haiji would be no longer needed. He would be hauled off to jail for his deception of humanity, for siding with Enoshima and Despair, on top of all his other long-forgotten crimes as part of the Touwa Group that fate had yet to punish him for. Naegi Makoto would be merciless once he learned that it was Haiji who tried to use his sister as a proxy in detonating the Monokuma Kids’ helmets and turning her into a mass murderer, all those months ago.

Maybe this simple act of freeing the children - of placing his hope in Komaru and Future Foundation to save both the children and adults - would convince Makoto to stay his hand when he came to pass judgement upon Touwa. Maybe this would redeem Haiji’s tattered soul in the eyes of whatever deities cared to look upon him.

He glanced at Touko and Komaru debating with each other in whispers and fierce gesticulations. Once again, they’d shut him out, too focused on their own agenda. No cowardice or indecisiveness, just confidence that he wished he never needed to fake. If he trusted them from the day they’d first met, could he have fallen so easily under Shirokuma’s siren song? Could he have convinced the adults there was a better way to win against the Monokuma Kids?

There was no use daydreaming about alternate realities now. Otherwise, he’d dream forever. Out of all the questions he had, about the future of his city, about his soul, there was only one whose answer would salvage his spirit or break it, and render all other questions redundant.

“Are you proud of me, Dad?” he asked out loud, hoping that nobody was paying attention to him.


	9. All In Together Now

The rotors of the black cargo plane hadn't stopped spinning, but the ramp was already opening its maw to reveal rows and rows of crates stacked atop each other. Men and women in suits popped out from behind them to begin unloading the cargo. Future Foundation was here. Haiji’s final responsibility had been relieved. He’d relinquish it gladly.

Out of the cargo hold, a boy with short brown hair bounded out and wrapped his arms around Komaru. She buried her head in his shoulder and slumped in his grasp. For that instant, she resembled a frightened girl, alone and despairing, the Komaru that Haiji first met all those months ago. He blinked and the illusion of a slouch was gone. She linked arms with the other boy and led him towards one of the highway's exit. Haiji watched them until they merged with the sunlight. He blinked again, eyes smarting from the pain of the sun, but he couldn’t make Komaru or the boy out anymore.

He felt someone brush past his injured arm, sending shockwaves into his shoulder. It was a cackling Touko, tongue hanging out like he’d never seen before. She dashed inside the plane. When she next emerged, she was clinging to a disgruntled boy doing his best to avoid looking at her while simultaneously pushing her away. Haiji presumed this was Togami. The boy was already as tall as Haiji was, barking orders to his subordinates with authority. Touko’s face was darting all around, trying to get in Togami’s way, but he bobbed and weaved like an expert boxer, always keeping his eyes fixated on anything that wasn’t her.

Hiroko smacked her fist into the brown dreadlocks of a tall, unshaven man, the only one who looked out of place amongst the Foundation staff. She ruffled his hair as he collapsed, sniffling at her feet. The Warriors of Hope were in a circle away from the crowd, anxiously watching the new entrants.

As the others hugged out their tearful reunions, Haiji looked back over the city his family was named after, the smoking husk of toppled link-chain fences and blood-splattered bitumen under his feet, of cladding shot through with craters. He wondered if Monaka was still amongst all the mess.

Doing his best not to bump into anyone, Haiji meandered his way into the now-empty cargo hold, buckled himself into a seat and stared into the cockpit, waiting for the others to come back inside and fly him far away.

* * *

 

"Haiji!"

Haiji jolted awake. He was still in the uncomfortable cargo seat, the strap digging into his waist. Confused, he rubbed the cold out his eye. At the bottom of the open cargo ramp, Komaru was waving at him. More worryingly, she was also carrying...

"A soccer ball?"

"Everyone's tired of unloading the crates, so we're going to have a match." She tossed the ball into the plane. Before he could move, the ball rapped him clean on the skull, and bounced back down the half-open ramp into Komaru's arms. "Come out of there. It's not nice to keep people waiting."

Sport. As if he needed strenuous exercise. "I don't really want to lose." It was the smartest thing he could think to say.

Komaru turned away. But then she looked back over her shoulder at him, a glint in her green eyes.

"Don't worry. I've already picked you for my team."


End file.
